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Cleo. (1)

“Daisy, daisy...” I could hear her voice sing in my head. “I’m half crazy all for the love of you.”

Her laughter rang out louder in my thoughts than it did when we were together. Consciously and unconsciously it was a continuous torment even after I had been freed of her. The torture she had inflicted on my body was ingrained in my mind. Some times if I closed my eyes I could feel the coolness of the blade against my skin.

I had grown an unnatural fear of the dark and often slept with the light on. It had been two months since Cleo had kidnapped me and locked me up, but to me it felt like years had passed. I could still see the bruises she left on my body, and scars of wounds she artistically carved on my skin like some form of branding. Besides the psychological torture I believed she liked the scarring the most.

I stared out the backseat window my hand idly rubbing a scar on my neck. She had planned for it to be the last one; the one that would end me, consequently ending her vicious game. She had said that she would miss me, but the evil look on her face made me think otherwise. There was no way someone like her could harbor such feelings.

I sighed and pulled my jacket collar higher. It was enough that my face was all over the news. I didn’t want anyone to recognize me and consequently start looking for my scars.

My driver, Steve was understanding. He didn’t ask questions except for where I wanted to go. He was also my personal body guard. I was no one of importance but the office made a big deal of my disappearance. I guess being the managing director of a big company had its perks. I didn’t understand the fuss. Cleo wasn’t going to be a problem anymore and I was a topic of discussion in most social settings that mattered. I doubted anyone would want to harm me again. “It’s all precautionary Dave.” they said. It was a waste of money, fortunately not my money.

“We’re here.” Steve announced in his deep quiet voice.

I sighed. “Just one hour. An hour and we’re done.” I said to myself. I let Steve open the door for me before I stepped out of the car and walked toward the building.

The day was nice and warm and I instantly regretted putting on my jacket. I thought about taking it off but something stopped me in my tracks.

It wasn’t a figure passing me by and neither was it the sound of someone laughing. It was a scent I had grown accustomed to. A scent that had been pleasure at first and become pain. I found myself turning toward the direction of the scent, in what I could only describe as fear. I knew there was no way it could’ve been her but I wanted to be sure. I looked lost, turning in my heel, sniffing around like a dog. The trail of the scent was lost and all that was left was a group of people who either thought I was insane or on the verge of running mad.

“Steve.” I called. He was by my side in seconds.

“Everything okay boss?” I could see genuine concern on his face and I was grateful for it. He had been around for all my emotional and psychological break downs. There were times he had carried me to my room when I was too weak to move. He more than anyone understood what was going on.

I watched his concern turn to instinctive alertness. His eyes began to sweep the square until finally he looked backed in my direction and offered to guide me back to the car.

“Let’s get you home boss,” he said opening the door for me.